Chapter Twenty
Betrayed
Sara
The soft strings of an acoustic guitar thrummed faintly into my room, the sound carried by the cool night-breeze flowing freely through the yawning balcony doors. In a sleepy haze, I summoned my body to slip out of the quilted comforter and rise out of Tom’s bed. My cold feet followed the trills of the song down the plushy carpeted hallway and stairs; the silk fabric of my short, ivory nightgown barely covered me.
While foreign, the sensual humming of the male voice accompanying the guitar retained an air of familiarity, beckoning me to continue to pursue its source. Before I knew it, the smooth tunes of the steel strings ushered me into Tom’s garden bedroom.
Still dressed in his black trousers, he sat on a chaise resting near the open patio doors. The pale light of the moon cast its luminance off his bare shoulders. With his back to me, Tom let his fingers expertly strum the guitar. The splashing sounds of the ocean waves and the wafts of cold, salty air engulfed his room, springing goosebumps on my flesh. With a trace of melancholy, and launching me deeper into this midnight spell, his velvety voice tenderly hummed the remaining lyrics to the piece.
I should have been miles away from this place, but I chose to stay. The song carried me back to him. When he’d left earlier, my heart shattered. It was pain I swore I would never feel again. I was angry and wounded, but most of all, I was terror-stricken that no matter what happened, I would not be able to walk away from him. I probably should have left. God knew it would have been the best decision I should have made, but as much as my heart anguished, I couldn’t leave Tom.
I wouldn’t leave him.
I walked over and tenderly placed my hands on his shoulders. His skin felt cool from the ocean wind blowing against his body. He shuddered at my warm touch. He didn’t look up from his guitar or turn around to look at me, but he reached up with one hand and placed it over mine, bringing it around to his lips and kissing it.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said.
“I didn’t know you played.”
“I couldn’t sleep.” His voice carried a tinge of sadness as he placed the guitar down on the floor.
There was too much silence between us and too many unanswered questions, but none of it mattered. What was important was us and what we felt. I bent down and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. His heart beat wildly against the walls of his chest, echoing the sentiment raging inside my body.
“Tom, I’m sorry about earlier tonight. It wasn’t my place to say all those things or to judge you or to—”
“Sara, please, you have nothing to be sorry about. I was a complete jackass. Leaving you here by yourself was cowardly and stupid and—”
“Stop. We both screwed up.” I pulled away from him and grabbed his chin, trying to turn him toward me as his stormy gaze latched onto mine. “What’s the matter, love? What aren’t you telling me?”
He took his gaze away from mine and rested his face on my belly, holding me tight around my waist. “I never meant for any of this to happen, Sara.”
“What do you mean?”
“Baby, I’m fucked up, and I don’t want to drag you down with me.”
“Fucked up doesn’t scare me.”
“I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“How about with her name?”
“Her name?”
“The woman who broke your heart.”
“That song wasn’t about her.”
“It was about someone.”
“It was about…a lot of things, Sara. My past, my present…all of my fears.”
I looked deep in his eyes, trying to find the man I met two weeks ago—the confident business tycoon who owned the world around him, but he wasn’t there. All I saw was the raw spirit of a tortured soul. This was a Tom I didn’t know, perhaps the Tom I needed to know. “You can trust me,” I said.
“If you didn’t run before you sure as hell will run now,” he chuckled.
“It can’t be that bad.”
“It is.”
“What was her name? Who was the woman who screwed you up for the rest of us?”
“You really want to go there?”
“The whole point of me coming out here was to get to know you better. So, let’s have it.”
“I haven’t talked about it…her…for years. It’s not easy.”
“It’s never easy to talk about your ghosts. I get it, but we have to do it sometime.”
With silent resignation, he closed his eyes and whispered her name, “Shayna.” His hands shook and he chewed on his bottom lip as he tried to put together his thoughts. The memory shadowed over him like a dark cloud about to break. I waited in silence. Then he looked at me and unearthed his past. “I loved her like I’d never loved a woman…” His voice trailed off with a din of regret. His gaze dropped to his lap as his chest heaved with emotion.
I didn’t know how to respond to his first confession. A part of me was scared of what secrets laid buried inside that trove, but I needed to be strong for him. Reopening old wounds required careful fingers and a loving heart. With a deep breath, I sat next to him on the chaise. I reached for his trembling hands and gave them a light squeeze. He looked up at me, and with unspoken words, I reassured him his secrets would be safe with me.
He smiled and nodded in appreciation. “My father,” he began, “was a terrible man. Possessive, abusive…he nearly killed my mother in front of me in a fit of rage. My brother and I tried to protect her, but we were no match for him. My mother…” he paused. “My mother protected him. She never fought back. It pissed me off she couldn’t leave him—wouldn’t leave him. I was tired of the constant fighting. I didn’t want to leave her—it hurt me beyond words—but I had no choice. I would have killed my father with my own two hands if I’d stayed. When I turned eighteen, I enlisted in the military and I left. I should have never abandoned my mother and brother, but like a fucking coward, I ran.”
“You were just a kid, Tom.”
“It was no excuse. James never left. And a year later, I received the news my father had passed from a heart attack. I felt nothing. Numb. As far as I knew, I never had a father to begin with. I came home for the funeral. My mother begged me to come home. She needed me there. It was the only reason I came back, to be there for her. I was guilt ridden for abandoning her. It was the least I could do. And it was during the funeral that she told me why she had never left him. She’d done it to protect us. He’d promised he’d kill us if she ever left him.”
As Tom told his story, his eyes flashed with the terror and innocence of a young boy. He said he’d been numb when he heard his father died, but I found it hard to believe. Tom did mourn his father, the father he never had and never would. I didn’t want to tell him what I saw written on his face. He had to protect the little boy still living inside.
“Nice father figure, eh?” he contemplated to himself as he recalled the threats his father made.
“It’s a terrible thing for any child to have to hear about their father. Even as an adult I’m sure the news was hard to swallow.”
“You wanna know the honest truth? It didn’t entirely shock me. He was a monster. But at least I knew my mother didn’t stay with him because she loved him, or because she didn’t care about her children. She did it to protect us. I only wished she’d told us sooner.” Tom’s jaw muscles twitched and his fists clenched. I imagined he still harbored anger and resentment, but it was stronger than he wanted to admit.
“Baby, if it’s too difficult to talk about, I understand.”
“It’s fine,” he said, but it took him a few moments to gather his thoughts and continue with his story. “After the funeral, late that night, a bunch of us got together. My friend asked us to come over his house, drink, and maybe help clear my head. I needed to get out of the house. After a year, the place hadn’t changed so much and I couldn’t stand being inside. I got pretty wasted. I was a fucking mess. My brother left early. Apparently, he’d tried to get me to go back home with him, but I violently refused. Somewhere between my last beer and by the time I made it home that night, I blacked out. However, there was always something I did remember. Her face. I knew someone had driven me home that night, and the next morning, when everything else was a fog, the only thing, the only person I could remember was her, Shayna.”
“That’s when you met her?”
“She was the sister of someone at the party who ended up at my friend’s house. Apparently, in an alcohol stupor, I opened up to her and told her all about my messed-up family and about my dad. If it hadn’t been for her, I probably would have drunk myself to death.”
“She saved you.”
“In more ways than one. She was the one who drove me home. I thought I’d never see her again, but I ran into her at a local joint a few days later. We clicked. The rest is history. I was a hot head with a drinking problem, Sara. I was on the verge of being kicked out of the military for disciplinary issues, but she straightened me out.”
“Is that why you fell in love with her?”
“I fell in love with her because she gave me what no one else had. I felt safe and loved. She tamed my hot temper and made sure I got the help I needed so I wouldn’t become some deadbeat drunk. She was all I had, and I latched on to her too tight. I would have left the military for her. I would have left everything for her, but she kept me in line and helped me remember what was important. I stayed in the military and came back home to her at the end of my first two tours. Her face, the promise of her love for me, was all that kept me sane. Knowing I could come home to her gave me something to live for.”
“So, what happened?”
“We’d spoken about marriage, and I promised her after my final tour I was going to leave and come home to marry her. I proposed one evening. The big day was set for the end of my tour. That last year, though, was different. I sensed a change in Shayna. She wasn’t the same woman I fell in love with. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but she seemed distant, withdrawn from me. I thought I was losing her.”
“That must’ve been difficult, especially being so far away.”
“It killed me. I loved her, but later on I realized it was the kind of love that’s toxic. I was possessive and paranoid. The thought of losing Shayna drove me mad, and not being home to see what was happening made me reach my boiling point.
“The week I was supposed to return from my last tour, I was sent on one last mission. It wasn’t even supposed to be me out there, but one of our guys had a family emergency so I went in his place. A roadside bomb placed by insurgents took out the first vehicle in our convoy. Seven guys. Dead. Blown to pieces by these motherfuckers. The humvee I was traveling in was right behind; the blast was so strong, shrapnel pelleted our truck, killing the two Marines up front. I was sitting in the back and was spared along with another soldier. The shockwave rocked over us in a violent thrust, knocking us unconscious.”
I gasped and stared in horror. “Oh, my God.
“I suffered severe hemorrhaging to the brain and had to be placed in an induced coma for quite some time. Internal bleeding caused by fractured ribs almost claimed my life. Had a broken leg and dislocated shoulder, among other injuries. I was in pretty bad shape, but at least I’d gotten away with my life. Other guys weren’t so lucky.”
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“I’m not looking for sympathy, Sara. It’s part of the job. You know you are sent out there to fight for your country, but you can’t be sure you’ll ever come back. It’s something we are prepared to accept. Well, some more than others. Either way, I was hospitalized at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany for almost four months, healing then undergoing rehabilitation.”
“Your family must have been a nervous wreck. Especially your mother. Were they allowed to come see you?”
He smirked at my question before shaking his head. “My mom and James flew to Germany as soon as they heard. Shayna, though, she never came to see me. Not even after I woke up.”
I jumped to my feet. “What? Why on earth would your fiancé not come visit you after you almost lost your life?”
“Shayna was having an affair. When she heard about the accident and that I was in a coma with potential brain damage, well, let’s just say she saw her ticket out. I learned that tidbit shortly after waking up from my coma. When I tried to reach her back home, she was nowhere to be found. No one was speaking up, but eventually her brother cracked and told me she’d fallen into the arms of another man. So, he said. But I knew better. Shortly after my accident, they eloped, and their son was born six months later. It was Allen, my childhood friend, who got in the middle.
“Jesus Christ. You knew the guy?”
“Can’t make this shit up.”
“What did you do? Did you confront them?”
Tom jumped to his feet, clenching his fists, black fury shadowing his eyes. “Hell no. I never wanted to see their faces again. When I finally got out of the hospital, I reenlisted and never looked back.”
“You haven’t been home since then?”
He turned to look at me, his eyes dark with resignation. “No, and I don’t plan to. Ever. That place holds too many bad memories.”
“Is that why you’ve blocked love out of your life?”
“How could I trust in another woman after what Shayna did?
He’d loved her so deeply; she’d nearly torn his soul apart with her betrayal. Refusing to let anyone in was his way of preserving his heart. What about now? What was different about me? About us? Could he really love again? My body trembled thinking about the probable heartbreak awaiting me if I chose to stay with this man. He was damaged, jaded. Then again, so was I.
Unable to meet his gaze, I looked away. What right did I have to expect anything less? When Josh left, I swore I’d never let anyone else in. Love is great, but the pain typically accompanying it is debilitating. Why put yourself through the torture? When I turned to face him, the answer stared back at me, in the depths of his storm-filled eyes.
“So where does all this leave us?” I asked.
“Us?” He ran his hands through his hair, his gaze uncertain, perhaps trying to find the right words to say. “Baby, up until two weeks ago, I was a man who didn’t have a care in the world. I wasn’t tethered to anyone. I could come and go as I pleased and not give a shit where or in whose bed I woke up the next day. That was my life ever since I came back from Iraq. Now? I can’t imagine my life without you. Am I scared? Hell yeah. But I’m ready to give it another go.”
I stood up and walked over to him. He’d been through so much pain, and although that past was over, the scars remained. I hugged him, wishing I could erase all the sorrow and anger with my touch. He reached for me and took me in his arms.
Standing in that room alone with him, the early dawn only moments away, I realized it had to be now or never. I wasn’t going to run. Not this time. Not again. I reached up to kiss him. I wanted to show him I had nothing to fear and he shouldn’t fear me either, but he turned his lips away.
“Baby, what is it?” I asked.
“I don’t know I have the strength to restrain myself from you.”
“I don’t want you to restrain yourself from me. I want this…us…right now.”
“I don’t want you to regret this in the morning. To regret me.”
“The only thing I would regret is not showing you how I feel.”
He stood there, motionless, hands in his pockets. Tense.
“You seem so nervous,” I said.
He chuckled. “I feel like a teenager about to do this for the very first time.” He smiled at me crookedly.
I grabbed his wrist and yanked his hand out of his pocket then walked toward his unmade bed. Finally, at the foot of the bed, I released his hand. The anxiety raking him was coming off his body in waves. I rubbed his shoulders and thick biceps. My hands caressed the slabs of hard muscle on his abs and chest. Everywhere my hands touched, I felt the tension dissipate. “I love how strong you are,” I said as I placed my hand over his heart. “In here. You’ve been through hell and back. But underneath this shell you’ve built are the true scars. There is purity and intensity in the love living inside you. I couldn’t explain it before, but now I know, it’s what drew me to you, what’s kept me here.”
“I survived by blocking it all away and living a lie. I’m not proud of the man I became, Sara. Yet, here you are. You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” he ushered in a soft whisper. “It’s like the walls I have worked so hard to build have all of a sudden come down. I can’t hide from you.”
“There’s no need for walls anymore.”
I trailed a path with my fingers to his waist. Eyes closed, his breath intensified with every move my hands made. He remained unmoving, letting me take the lead. I lingered over his belt buckle. This time, he didn’t protest. Without hesitation, but unrushed, I unbuckled him then proceeded to undo the top button and unzip his trousers. My hand grazed over the stiffness bulging in his pants, making my pulse quicken. It was impossible to avoid the heat of his arousal.
He should have taken me right there, ravaged me like he did that first night at his apartment. Instead, he stood, unflinching, tormenting me.
“You sure know how to make a girl doubt herself. Don’t you want me?”
“My desire for you is not in question here.”
“If you want me, what’s stopping you?”
He closed his eyes briefly before settling his gaze over me. “Baby, every time I’m near you, this pounding in my chest won’t stop, and when I’m away from you, Christ, the anxiety of when I will see you next kills me. It should be enough to make me run, or to make me realize I am heading down a goddamn rabbit hole, but the more time I spend with you and the more I hold you in my arms, it never feels enough. There is nothing that can keep me away now, Sara. Tonight, I finally understand what it is I’m feeling, and I’m nearly petrified of what this all means.”
“Tom—”
“Baby,” he continued, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip, “if we do this, if you let me make love to you tonight, I will lose myself completely in you.”
We stared at each other in terrifying silence. His eyes pleaded with me for a response, for some kind of affirmation of the feelings I had for him. This wasn’t about an undeniable physical attraction; it wasn’t about lust or need. It was about the bond growing between us. The possibility of a love so strong it could hold us together and potentially even tear us apart.
Yes, I was scared. God knew I’d tried to deny it from the first day I saw his face in that coffee shop. The more I wanted to convince myself I didn’t want him, the more I was drawn to him.
What use was it to deny it any longer? We both had pasts we couldn’t escape, but what Tom made me realize that night was we didn’t have to run from our pasts in order to embrace our futures. And it would only be a matter of time before it would be my turn to face my own demons, but that wasn’t what was important now. What mattered was we both cared deeply about each other and together we could heal, we could make it out of the darkness holding us in the tentacles of its shadows for too long.
Of one thing, I was certain. The moment I stepped foot on that plane and flew to Santa Monica, I’d plunged deep into his rabbit hole. I reached up, and cupping his face in my palm, I committed to my destiny. “I’m ready to lose myself in you too.”